


Rock the Boat

by JasnNCarly



Series: Roman Reigns & You [25]
Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M, Tumblr, completed series, greygirlmoxley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19734115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasnNCarly/pseuds/JasnNCarly
Summary: Your marriage to Roman is tested by your desires.





	1. Chapter 1

****“I really thought…”

The minus sign taunts you; it makes sure you know that you’ve been wrong in your plans for over a week now. All the things you had imagined you’d have to do? None of it matters now. You take a deep breath, the tears worsening as you keep your head bowed, then attempt to return to the bathroom.

Roman’s hands immediately catch your wrists and pull you to him, guiding you to a comfortable seat on his lap. His big, sculpted arms surround you as he rests his forehead against your temple, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

This had to be torture for him, too. You had been off the birth control for almost three months, and it hadn’t made anything easier. The only change? Your body was out of control with no regulation in its schedule. You release a bitter laugh as his uses his thumb and index finger to wipe your tears away, “It’s so stupid. I don’t even know why I’m upset. I wasn’t pregnant…it’s not a loss…it wasn’t anything—nothing at all.”

“(Y/N)…”

You know he’s prepping to give you the ‘it will be okay’ talk, and you’re not sure you can take it. Thankfully, your son picks up on your signal from across the hall and wakes with a loud wail. Sniffling, you pat his arms to release you and pad over to your son’s room. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you wipe your face and approach his crib.

The second you are at the side of his crib, he begins to settle. You reach down to his thick curls, playing with their natural swirls, and feel the strangling squeeze of disappointment coil around your heart. Resting your head on your hand clutching the crib, you feel the tears pour over your skin and try not to be loud.

It doesn’t matter. Roman’s heavy footsteps appear behind you, and he’s not giving you the chance to ignore him again. You don’t fight him as he helps you to a stand before scooping you up and taking you out of your son’s nursery. Instead, you curl up to him, your arms around his neck and face in his shoulder as his arms hook around your waist and under your legs.

You feel childish for being so emotional, for not just shaking it off and seducing your man again; yet you wanted to be everything to him – wanted to have it all – and knew he wanted a big family as much as you did. This was not the way for it to happen.

Roman sets you gently in your bed before climbing in beside you, wrapping you both in the fluffy comforter before embracing you close. When he feels like you’re calm enough, Roman sighs against your hair, “We’re gonna have another baby. I promise you. We just—we can’t stress it or we’ll end up waiting longer for the stork.”

You can’t help but laugh at his proclamation, feeling as though you’re sinking into him, “I don’t know why I’m sad. It’s not like we’ve been trying for a year or anything. (Y/B/N) was a happy accident. It’s just…”

“You thought you were.” Roman stops, his hand stroking your hair and pulling you back so he can stare into your eyes, “I’m sorry I made you wait to take the test…I just—I thought maybe you were too. I wanted to be here.”

You pout a sympathetic lip, placing your hand over his and leaning further into his touch, “I’m so glad you are.”

“I’m gonna give you another baby.”

The comment is a joke, but his sincerity isn’t; suddenly, your world is beautiful again. Nothing could be too bad, if you had him so willing to secure your happiness.

—————————–

You had left a note about your ‘mommy and me’ class; kissing Roman’s head before taking your son to the park for today’s events. You figured he would want a gym morning session anyway; and you needed to be amongst beautiful babies who could get you ovulating – or so that was your theory…your hope.

“(Y/N)!”

You begin to approach the crowd, hearing a familiar voice behind you and offering a bright smile to the only father enrolled in your class, “Ryan! You running late too?”

“Yeah, let’s act like we just got caught up in talking.” He chuckles, his daughter on his hip as he begins to follow your lead, “So, how’s everything going at home?”

“Good, Roman’s home so…I’m happy.” You see his slight frown as his blue eyes search for your man, “Oh! He was still sleeping when I left. Poor thing, he’s exhausted.” You cringe slightly, admitting, “He got in late last night, and I didn’t give him much time to sleep.”

“Well—hate to say it—but that doesn’t sound so bad.”

You roll your eyes at him, elbowing him slightly, “Shut up.”

“What? Single dads need love too.”

“Oh my God! You’re pathetic!”

You had been, by far, his closest ally in the class, giving him the best advice as it came to any of the single woman in the class. The class starts off with immediate energy, the playful music immediately getting the toddler’s ready to interact with their parents and other children.

As it moves towards more free time, Ryan leans over to whisper, “You wanna see whose kid is faster?”

You let out a loud laugh, getting into his position, “You’re on pal.” The two of you had this tradition for months, planting your kids firmly on your feet and holding their arms out – almost like a four legged race where you and he were really in charge of the speed of the race.

“Ready? Set? Go!”

You nod after each prompt then sprint, calling out your son’s name as he giggles loudly, squeezing your hands to signal he wants to go faster. You are clearly winning, losing track of your opponent, until you run into a brick wall. You bounce back a little, “I’m so sorry.” Your apology is cut short when you look up to see him stare down at you and your son, “Hey…”

Roman seems off, lifting his shades up and glaring past you, “I thought this was a mommy and me class.”

You glance back at a somewhat surprised Ryan, “It is, but his sister runs the class. She signed him up months ago.” You reach up to cup Roman’s chin, forcing him to look at you, “All the women agreed to it.”

His voice is a little too low, a little too threatening as he picks up your son, “You never said anything.”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s not like I work with him or anything; it’s a one hour class.” You try to read his mood as he takes your hand, lacing your fingers, and moves a step closer, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it. His daughter is the sweetest little girl you’ll meet and—”

Roman’s hand has released yours, to slide it around your waist and hold you close, as his smiling lips find yours, happy to cut your excuses off. His action elicits the action he wants from you as you give in, deepening the kiss before releasing him.

You narrow your eyes at him, rubbing his bicep and sighing, “Did you sufficiently stake your claim?”

Roman’s eyes leave yours, checking behind you, before he looks down at you again, “Yep.” 


	2. Chapter 2

“There’s the big guy!” Dean beams, picking up your son and raising him in the air as you finish up in the kitchen, “You get bigger every time I see you! Pretty soon, you’ll be ready for the ring.”

“Bite your tongue.” You warn, pointing a knife at him before returning to your chopping, “Babe, how many times I got to tell you to talk to him before you let him in the house.”

“Sorry, long day.” Roman lightly smacks his friend’s shoulder, taking his son, “Besides, my boy is gonna do whatever he wants. He’s got the world at his fingertips.”

Dean tries to check the pots at work on the stove, “Watchua making?”

“What’s it matter!” You smack his shoulder in the same place Roman had, “You’re gonna eat it anyway! Just wash up and sit at the table!”

“She’s such a mom.” Dean groans, heading into the bathroom, as Roman shakes his head and secures your baby boy to his hip.

Roman waits for you to look up at him, “You still mad at me from this morning?”

“Maybe…” You stop chopping, placing the last of the veggies into the salad, and wipe your hands on your apron as he leans into kiss your cheek, “I don’t need you questioning our normalcy, Roman. We do things. We have a routine. But it doesn’t mean that I want anything else, and I definitely don’t want _someone_ else.” You snake your arms around your boys, looking up at him, “How could I?”

“I know that. And…I love you. But,” Roman knows you’re getting angry with him, so he hands over your son in an attempt to calm you down, “you don’t see what I do when men are around. You’re beautiful, and the way you are with him…it just makes you desirable. Guys want a woman who is fine and knows how to be a mama. Trust me.”

“So, kill or be cheated on? Don’t know that I’ve heard that one.”

Roman shuts his eyes, clearly disappointed that you are not convinced, and kisses you before following Dean’s suit to exit the room; Dean enters the room again as his friend exits, offering open arms for your son.

“I promise he can stand and walk all on his own, Uncle Dean.” You tease, handing him over so you can set the table.

“I know. I just don’t get to be around him much.” Dean smiles widely at your son, playfully hitting his own face with your son’s fist as the boy bubbles with laughter, “You really got a baby class with some guy?”

You drop the silverware on the table, hands immediately on your hips, “Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah, Roman told me how he had to pull the ‘you, Jane and he, Tarzan’ act at the park today.” Dean has no shame, smirking at your anger and putting your son in his comfy custom highchair, “You really think you were gonna get that past him?” 

“Great, I got Uncle Dean and Daddy ganging up on me,” You sigh, pointing towards the silverware, “Set it up while I get the food.”

—————————–

“Dean,” You pat his leg and gesture towards the hall, “use the guest room like a normal person.”

Groggy, he nods and stands to his feet, shuffling away from the couch and into the room per your request. You take a seat on the now empty couch and blow out a deep breath, flipping through channels until Roman comes down – wet hair in a messy bun and body dressed in only baggy gray sweats. You pat the couch between your legs, signaling him where to sit, and he laughs while sitting on the hardwood in the space you’ve made available. Playfully hooking his arms around your legs, you leave a random game show on the television then put your palms to work against the muscles of his shoulders.

Just as you think you’ve eased all the tension between you, Roman starts to caress your legs and inquires gently, “How are you feeling?”

You know exactly what he means; it was nice to have him home because you had barely thought about it after crying your eyes out last night. His possessive show had given you an entirely new item to obsess about, “Um…okay…just—thinking…”

Stopping one of your hands, he squeezes and kisses it, “About?”

“If you’re gonna be okay with the ‘mommy and me’ class or if I have to register elsewhere.”

Roman moves completely out of your touch, turning around to face you, “What?”

“I don’t want you to worry about it. At all. And the truth is…the last thing you need going on in the back of your mind is me around Ryan.”

“Ryan.” Roman repeats his name, rolling his neck and attempting to be cool, “I’m not going to trip over _Ryan_ , but I will make damn sure he knows where your home is.”

You can’t help but be slightly turned on by his statement; yet you push beyond it, “Our son, you, those are my priorities. I need you to know that whether your ten minutes or hundreds of miles from home. Can you honestly say you feel that way? Knowing I have one daddy in the class?”

“As long as you know who is daddy in this house,” Roman’s claim as he gets up to a stance on his knees, staring into your eyes, “we’ll be fine.”

You accept his kiss, hands on his bare chest, “Oh, so, you’re my daddy, now?”

“You don’t remember?” Roman’s arms circle around you as he kisses you between sentences, “Maybe we should go upstairs…I could remind you…we could get back to work on baby two…”

You laugh, allowing him to help you to your feet and drag you towards the stairs, “What about Dean?”

Roman crinkles his brow, quick with wit, “No threesomes, baby girl. I’m all you need.”

“You’re such an ass.” You push him out of the way, sprinting upstairs with him a step behind.


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m serious!” Your eyes are wide as he continues to play with you, the two of you still dealing with the aftershocks of your last wave, “I’m trying to be quiet here, and you’re just determined to hear me scream!”

“You have no idea how good it sounds when you do though.” Roman strokes your hair back, his hand still between you as his fingers probe your sex; you groan, your body slightly cramping at his action as he had just been inside you going for broke just seconds ago, “I love knowing you only make those sounds for me.”

“You just like torturing me.” You attempt to simply trap his hand in between your thighs but he easily keeps them open with the movement of his hand, “Come on…this has nothing to do with baby making now. You’re just being mean.”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Roman’s voice is low, dripping with desire, as his fingers slide inward, “You make it harder for me to leave you, every time.”

You catch his wrist, forcing him to stop his motion, “You gotta give me a minute, babe.”

Thankfully, he retracts his touch and gives you a minute to breathe deeply. Everything he says intoxicates you and makes it hard for you to keep your wits about you.

You reach up to play with his hair, “I know it isn’t easy for you being away, but…I’m always going to be here when you come home.”

“I just think about you and (Y/B/N). How much I miss…”

“Don’t do that.” You follow him as he lays back flat, your body now curled up to his as you lift your head, “You should just be thankful that we love you so much…for the rest of your life.”

Roman wets his lip, yet it still seems as though his mouth is dry, “Have you thought about what I said? Before I left last time?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, your previously relaxed body tensing in all nerves, “We don’t need that, babe.”

“What if I need it?” Roman takes your hand, lifting your bare ring finger to his lips and kissing it as a reminder, “You won’t even consider it?”

His lips, the tender action, make you want to boldly take on round three with him, “We don’t need to be married for you to know I’m not going anywhere. For you to know that I’m here for you and (Y/B/N)…is me begging you for baby number two, nearly breaking my back to get it done, not enough?”

“Would it be that terrible being my wife?”

The question, his tone as he says it, rips your heart to shreds; you hate to make him think it’s him. He’s perfect. If you were ever to marry anyone, you would want it to be him. However, you’ve seen the best of relationships fail because someone wore a ring; someone had it all to bet and lose. The last thing you wanted was for that to be you.

Roman forces you to look at him, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, “Where did you go?”

You hate that he knew you well enough to read when your mind was elsewhere. Throwing your leg over him, you position your sex to brush against his and begin to move, responding as honestly as you ever had before, “I don’t need a ring to tell me where I belong.”

As his eyes snap shut, his breaths coming out sharp as you feel him rise beneath you, “Just remember, ring or not, you’re mine.”

—————————-

The roar of laughter causes you to slowly confront the day; stretching your limbs, groaning a little at the soreness of your muscles, you reach to the empty space beside you. Rolling over, you face his side of the bed and think about ‘the question’. It is torture for you to imagine marriage, but you felt like you were already bonded to him that way. Your life revolved around him and your son; would it be the worst thing to do things his way?

You grab a quick shower, dressing quickly in a pair of denim shorts and a baggy t-shirt; you knot the back of your shirt, descending the stairs, and hear a roar of laughter as you make it downstairs. You notice the sliding glass door is open and head towards the threshold, halfway there you spot your son being passed between his Daddy Roman and Uncle Dean, each man helping the toddler to make a round in the pool before the next switch occurs.

You heart fills with undying love for your man as he smiles at your son who wildly kicks his feet; they are magic to watch, the love between the father and son makes you almost jealous – Roman and his mini-me. Their hair curly more in the water, the sun bounces of their tan skin, and their smiles mirror each other as they make their round.

Your staring stops when Dean comes in to the house, slicking his hair back and eyeing you suspiciously as he ties a towel around his waist. Shaking off your focus, you follow Dean into the kitchen; he grabs a water out of the fridge and downs half the bottle before huffing out, “What’s up? You getting in?”

“Can I ask you something?” You glance over your shoulder, spotting Roman still entranced by your son; when Dean nods a confirmation, you know you are going to regret the question as you ask, “Has Roman talked to you about he—about marriage?”

“Nah, he hasn’t proposed yet. But I think he’s worth the wait.” Dean winks at you playfully as you give him a ‘please be serious’ glare in return, “(Y/N), you know the answer. I’m not going to lie to you. But—he’s never going to make you do anything you don’t want to. He loves you too much. He’d do anything for you and that kid.”

You bow your head, crossing your arms and thinking aloud, “…I love him…but I’m scared.”

“Of the teddy bear out there?” Dean pulls himself onto the counter-top, watching as you turn around and continuing to monitor Roman, “Why? He’s a marshmallow around you.”

“I know…” You shut your eyes tight, trying not to cry, “But what if it messes up everything?”

“Pssstt…” Dean waits for your eyes to pop open, whispering in a loud tone as Roman escapes the water and approaches the living room, “It won’t!”


	4. Chapter 4

Roman settles your son with a hug and kiss before allowing the boy to stand, “I hate this part…”  


Roman’s flight has been called, and you won’t be seeing him for a few weeks. There is a pay-per-view he will be headlining with Dean, and there’s no real time for a break in between. If you were being honest, you hated this part too. But you brave a smile, standing to your feet and reaching for his hand, “Come on, babe, you gotta go.”  


He is all tension as he flexes his hands and stands to his feet; staring down at you, he runs his hands into your thick hair and draws you in for deep kiss – one that is supposed to hold you over the entire time he’s gone. Roman only stops when your son whines, tugging at his leg, and picks him up, holding the boy as long as he can before he has to leave you both at the gate.  


This is the part where you get stronger for him, taking your son with a beaming grin and waving your hand, “Say bye, daddy! We love you! We’ll see you later!”  


Roman caresses your son’s hair then your cheek, mouthing, ‘I love you’ before taking what is a painful walk away. You wait for him to be out of sight before you and your son head back to the car, knowing it will be a long ride – your eyes already misty – you turn on toddler tunes in an effort to distract (Y/B/N) and lock your lips to prevent sobs, even as your tears fall.  


—————————-  


You busy yourself with your work and time with (Y/B/N); you skip the ‘mommy and me’ class this week out of respect. You’ll go back next week as soon as you’ve thought a little more about it; right now, you focus on your son and the random, brief phone calls Roman has been giving you. It’s sporadic, but he’s maintained a phone call every day – sometimes attempting multiple.

When you hit week two, you manage to get out more after work, even allowing some of your girlfriends to come over and somewhat gawk over the men that Roman works with. Wine and wrestling at your place – or so you had heard it coined.

It’s on one of these nights that you reveal a huge secret to your best friend, the one you had been hiding for weeks yet seemed reasonable to reveal upon a second cup of wine, “He wants to get married.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You are working on baby number two and planning to get married before I’ve even committed to a blind date last resort? Thanks a lot!”

“I kinda said no.” You down half your glass, sighing at her stunned gaze, “I know. I am letting the past scare me, and I’m being ridiculous.”  


(Y/BF/N)’s jaw drops, “Exactly! Do you know how many women would kill for a night with your man? Much less the ‘ever after’?”  


“I know…but I’m not just scared…” You can’t hide the tears, thinking about how horrible your relationships have been in the past and the failed marriages you’ve seen; you would die if that happened with you and Roman, “I’m terrified. It makes me ill, my stomach knots up and my head tightens like you wouldn’t believe. I want to make him happy, but—what if not knowing, if thinking that I can leave whenever I want, is what really keeps him around.”  


“Aw, honey…” She registers your insecurity, suddenly softened as she embraces you, “No one could ever want more than you. He’s not going anywhere…trust him.”  


—————————-  


You have been a ball of nerves all day; this whole day had taken a week to plan – making sure everything was in order and ready for your deed. If this whole thing panned out horribly, you had no idea how you would handle it; so, you took your friend’s advice and assumed everything would go perfect.

You take one last look in the mirror, smoothing your pleated red Grecian dress; you’re thankful it hugs your curves in all the right places while also allowing you to breathe easily. You had pinned half of your hair back, curls dripping around you, and your eyes popping among the black and rose accents you had used on your face. Stepping out of the bathroom, you step into the larger suite which the expensive hotel had dressed for the event – the scent of candles and roses easing your nerves a little. Any minute, Roman would get the message.

His hotel room had ‘experienced a leak’ and, therefore, his room was being upgraded. Thankfully, Dean had helped you set the whole thing up and encouraged you to go through with the crazy plan. You pace, deeply inhaling and exhaling, as you twists your fingers and hands.

When you hear the register of key card in the door, you freeze and face it as it opens. Roman enters the room with a heavy sigh, until his tired eyes register your presence and the state of his new accommodations. A small smile begins to form on his lips after he’s parked his bag, shut the door, and walked into further into the room, “What’s all this?”  


“This is…” You swallow hard, suddenly extremely out of breath, “I have someone watching (Y/B/N) tonight and tomorrow so I could do this.”  


Roman laughs, taking up the space directly in front of you, “Because I naturally assume you abandoned our child.”  


You feel faint, shutting your eyes and attempting bigger breaths, “I can’t believe how nervous I am.”

“Calm down, baby girl.” Roman’s hands cup and stroke your biceps, “Just talk to me.”

You open your eyes, his sympathetic and adoring eyes injecting you with the last bit of courage you needed; nodding to yourself, you slowly take a knee in front of him and look up to find his eyes full of disbelief, “I’ve thought about what you said. Considered everything in our lives together. And the truth is,” You take a deep breath, choking back tears, “I don’t want anything or anyone more than what we have and you. So…”

“No,” Roman cuts you off, his hands hooking under your arms and lifting you to your feet, “This is not how we’re gonna do this.” Moving to lift you off your feet, you don’t fight him as moves to sit you on the bed, “Just…don’t move.”

You want to protest, but you comply. You are still trying to get over the fact that he said ‘no’ before you even had a chance to ask the question.

He goes to dig into his bag, unzipping a pocket and retrieving something into the ball of his hand. Returning to you, he kneels with the sneaky smile of a child. He pops open the box and clears his throat, enjoying your tearful grin, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the okay, and I’d wait forever if you told me to. I’m just glad I don’t have to anymore so I’m asking you, begging you, to marry me.”

“You are the only man I can never say anything but yes to.” You extend your hand, wiggling your finger, “Claim me, baby.”

“Gladly.” He slips the ring on your finger somewhat clumsily as his lips take yours, making it clear that you’ve done the right thing.


	5. Chapter 5

“Do you have to go?”

Roman’s hardly taken his eyes off you since last night; you said yes, and he has taken full advantage of your willingness.

The dim morning light causes his tan skin to glow, inviting you to touch and grope; gold flecks are easy to spot in his eyes even as his hair drips down to tickle your neck. Your fingertips brush up and down the length of his tattoo, “Trust me, I don’t want to but have to. Someone’s gotta look after our boy, right?”

Roman’s lips kiss your temple before he buries his face against your hair, “I’d have both of you with me all time if I could.”

“Well…you’ll have us for the rest of your life.” You wait for him to lift his head, wiggling your ringed finger, “That’s a start, right?”

Taking a deep breath, his large hands cup your face as he kisses you deeply and robs you of your thoughts. You can’t do anything but submit when he does things like this; your legs and arms spread just to welcome him in – need him to lose himself in you. You invite him to make the world disappear, to make your entire awareness revolve around him.

Roman’s patience drives you crazy, thighs against the back of your legs as he takes his time with each journey inside of you. His fingers flex in and out, tangling further into your hair, as he takes time to kiss each of your lips. The pattern of his kiss causes your nails to dig into his shoulders: he sucks at your top lip, tugs on your lip with his teeth, and uses his tongue to ease the swollen area he creates.

His speed doesn’t pick up though his thrusts become harder as you moan and arch into him, hoping to encourage his pace. Your body still reacts to his, tightens with the same agony as his pace allows, and it’s desperately grasping at him as he moves in and out. You tilt your head away from him, out of breath, and clamp your eyes shut at his motion.

This doesn’t distract Roman as he takes advantage of your exposed throat, warm moist kisses against your skin and his teeth lightly scraping the skin. You make a small sound, signaling your body’s submission, yet he continues to move. The muscles of your calves’ cramp as your thighs shake at his continued motion, the low growl against your skin the blissful call that he’s given into you. While he rides out the wave, you try to hold on but feel your body giving out.

When he stops, huffing breaths against your neckline, you finally let go, allowing your limbs to fall where they fall. A part of you wonders if life would be kind enough to you to let you have it all, just for a single moment to know you are completely his and that you’ve started the process of growing your beautiful family.

—————————-

“So…” Ryan’s voice breaks off as he spots the ring, trying to feign excitement, “You’re engaged!”

“Yep.” You nod, looking on as your son and his daughter chase each other around the room, “Happened last week…finally stopped avoiding the inevitable.” 

Narrowing his eyes, he reveals his skepticism, “Well, that sounds romantic.”

“It actually was…” You play with the ring on your finger, thinking of the night and morning following, and fill your lungs with air, “I’ve never felt more loved or in love…my entire life. That man is everything to me. To my baby boy. I’m—happy for the first time in my life. Really happy, and I’m not questioning why or what for. I’m just…living it.”

“Guess he’s finished marking his territory, huh?” His eyes await yours, even as you frown (trying to forget what had happened), and he shakes his head with a sharp laugh, “It was pretty obvious he didn’t like us spending so much time together.”

“In all fairness, I didn’t even think to tell him you were in the class.” You hang your head, thinking to Roman’s possessive display and somewhat grinning, “He gets protective of us. He loses so much time with us that it kills him to think anyone else is enjoying our time.”

“At least I get to have something he doesn’t.” Ryan waits for you to roll your eyes at him, enjoying your playful reaction, “You deserve all a man’s time, not whatever you can get.”

“Speaking of that,” You hear a familiar ringtone, digging your phone out and answering without a glance towards the phone screen, “Hey, baby, I was just talking about you.”

—————————-

“You excited for him to come home tomorrow?” 

“Mmm-hmm.” Your answer isn’t very enthusiastic as your best friend walks with you and your son through the mall, “His flight’s supposed to get in early so that makes things better.”

(Y/BF/N) tilts her head, raising a hand to your forehead, “You don’t look good, honey.”

“My stomach’s been knotting up all day.” You stop to lean against a clothing rack, taking a deep breath, “Just dry heaving all morning. Wonder if I’m getting sick.”

“…or getting what you want.”

Her words register with your heavy heart, causing you to insist, “Negative, friend. I took a test a couple days ago, and it was big fat miss.”

She strokes your hair, pouting, “What? I thought you wait to test until Roman’s home.”

“Normally, I would. But—after last time, I thought I’d be nice and crush only my hopes.” You rub your hard stomach, swallowing bile and searching the department store, “I might need a restroom. Standing still is not helping.”

“Honey,” (Y/BF/N) looks extremely concerned, taking your pulse and checking her watch (the habits of a worrisome nurse), “you might need to see a doctor. Your shade isn’t good, and your pulse seems a little weak.”

“No, I just—I need to go home and lay down.”

“This isn’t negotiable.” She picks up your son, signaling with her head for you to follow her, “Let’s go.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I hate doctors.” You whine, rubbing your stomach and breathing deeply, as you wait for the emergency room doctor to return, “This whole thing is a waste of time. They’re going to say it’s some kind of flu or cold then I’ll be stuck on meds for Roman’s entire homecoming.”

“Well, as excited as you two get, it might be fine for you two to take a little break this time.”

“First of all, you act like you haven’t seen my man. Who would realistically keep their hands off him? Second,” You glance down at the ring on your finger, “He is insatiable since I said yes. If I knew things were gonna be like this, I would’ve proposed to him.”

“TMI, (Y/N)!” She adjusts your son in her lap, “Why you gotta tell me this?”

You let out a sharp laugh, clarifying, “I can’t explain it, but I wish I could. The way he looks at me, one word made it different…stronger.”

The doctor approaches, offering a polite smile but failing to lift his eyes from your chart, “Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

“That’s me.” You sigh, preparing yourself to hear the simple explanation and rub it in your best friend’s face, “You ready to give me antibiotics?”

The doctor’s eyes finally jump up to yours, a small smile on his lips, “Ms. (Y/L/N), we don’t prescribe medication for this other than prenatal vitamins.”

You swear you’ve misheard; that your heart had finally gone insane with hope and allowed you to hear something completely contradictory to your actual condition.

(Y/BF/N) stands up, her grin wide, “She’s pregnant?”

“Yes, pregnancy test confirmed it before we had to go too far in another direction.” He folds your chart against his chest as he crosses his arms, “Now, your HCG levels are slightly elevated, nothing to worry about yet. I just want to get you into a doctor after about a week of rest. I’ll write a note for your employer, but you will have to take it easy.” (Y/BF/N) thanks the doctor and sends him on his way with a simple, “Congratulations, Ms. (Y/N).”

You don’t realize it until she’s squeezed your arm; still in disbelief that it’s true, you are hugging your stomach.

—————————

You’ve paced the empty parking space beside (Y/BF/N)’s car for the past ten minutes, breathing deeply in and out in an effort to calm down.

“Give me the baby.” Her command causes you to realize how tightly you are clutching your fussy son in your arms, “And get in the car. I can at least get the air conditioning on while you freak out; I doubt sunburn is good for pregnancy.”

Your tanned skin could handle it, but you are dying for direction so you do as told. Sitting in the passenger seat, while she straps in the baby and flips on the car, you can’t help but whisper the terrible thought aloud, “I’m going to lose it. Why—why would any levels be high or…I need rest for a week to—to see a doctor…no one wants to say what I know.”

“What is it you think you know?” She locks the doors and cranks the A/C, reaching back to adjust the vents closest to your son, “Most of your ‘knowing’ comes from over-analyzing what someone says so I can only imagine what _you_ heard the doctor say.”

“I’m going to lose the baby.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“I’m not an idiot, okay? When I was pregnant before, I didn’t get a warning like that.”

“It’s different now.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It just is. Those elevated levels could be anything – including stress! Something you should not be doing while pregnant, (Y/N)!”

You try to calm down, both hands now pressed flat against your stomach, as your eyes catch a glimpse of your engagement ring’s sparkle, “Roman…”

“Good idea, you should tell him the second he gets home. That way—”

“No, he can’t know.” Your announcement causes her jaw to drop, ready to fire a counterargument, until you choke out a painful truth, “…I can’t let him down again.”

Her shoulders cave, making it clear she will not fight you even as she sighs, “(Y/N)…”

“Please, help me to distract him…and I’ll tell him when the time is right.”

—————————

“Do we really have to do this, (Y/N)?” Roman reaches over to squeeze your thigh as you drive back to the house, “I was hoping to spend some time alone with you, wifey.”

“We’re not married yet.” You glance over into his eyes, trying not to give into the lust of his gaze and reminding yourself you had to rest, “And I think it’s sweet that she’s throwing an engagement party for us at our home. You’ll have left overs for days, and we get to announce our impending nuptials.”

“Okay, well, family and friends are at the house…” He leans over and begins to plant warm kisses at the side of your throat, “Free babysitting for our son right now…” Roman caresses your thigh, his fingers beginning to tug at your yellow sundress, and continues with his kiss, “We could check in somewhere – for just an hour or two…”

His hand glides along your stomach (the last reminder you needed) just as the light switches to green; smacking his hand away, you try to laugh off your nerves, “Just be patient, babe.”

—————————

Your girl had set up a wonderful night, plenty of food and distractions for Roman as you moved only to find a new seat, trying to make it appear that everything was normal. However, as you move and have people fawn over/congratulate you on the engagement, you feel ill.

Your stomach tightens as you casually decline food and alcohol offerings; the evening carries on, and you can swear Roman is having a wonderful time, and finally you can’t hold back anymore. Excusing yourself from the room, your girl gets the signal clearly and begins to bid people goodnight; meanwhile, you rush to the nearest bathroom and lock the door. Hunching over the toilet, you begin to dry heave – thankful you haven’t gone crazy by answering your tummy’s rumble. If you had listened, you would be in a world of trouble right now.

“(Y/N)?” His voice accompanies his light knock on the door, “Are you okay?”

You inhale deeply, pinching your lips together and rubbing your stomach, then try to respond with a light tone, “I’m fine, Roman…could you put (Y/B/N) down for the night?”

“I’m heading that way. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” You wait until you hear his heavy footsteps ascend upstairs then wash up. When you’re done wiping your face, you smooth out the cotton material of your dress and head back into the living room; thankfully, the guests have disappeared. Your friend is gathering her things. Rushing over to her, you give her a bear hug and kiss her cheek, “Thank you for doing this.”

“Of course, Dean helped me clean up most of the mess. I can swing back through tomorrow to help with the rest. I’m going to head out so you two can finally be alone.” She cups your face with a small, empathetic smile, “You feeling okay?”

You glance over your shoulder before resting a hand against the tightness, “I just feel like curling into a ball and sleeping for a week.”

“Then, it’s good that the doctor ordered just that.” She plants a big kiss on your cheek, “Goodnight, honey, take it easy.”

You return to a seat on the couch, curling against the arm of the comfy furniture, and rest your head, shutting your eyes as some of the tension eases out of your system. Sleep starts to seduce you, promising that tomorrow will bring you closer to an answer.

“(Y/N)?”

You hear his voice in your half dream, dazed state but are too tired to respond. This message causes Roman to let out a heavy sigh, scooping you up and carrying you upstairs. You fall against him, breathing in his scent and relishing the support of his muscles around your body.

Roman lets out a breath against your hair, his tone has gone from loving to insecure within a millisecond, “I know something is wrong…I even think I know what…but you’re hiding from me. I don’t know what to do about that.”

Blinking your sleepy eyes open, you give in and lock your eyes on his, “I’m not hiding.”

Roman tucks you into bed, bringing the mountain of bedding up to your waist, “You could’ve fooled me.”

“I’m not, babe, I’m just—exhausted.”

“I’m going to ask you something…and I need you to be honest with me, okay?” You nod as he sweeps your hair behind your ear; his eyes flicker with dread before his thought is shared aloud, “Do you regret saying yes?”

Your eyes widen, tears of disbelief immediately flooding your eyes, as he holds up his hands, trying to calm you down.

“Because—I know why you’re scared. And…if it stays—the longest engagement of all time, I’m okay with that. You never have to do anything just to make me happy or—”

“Roman,” Your firm call of his name causes him to stop abruptly, yet the fear paints his silent expression, so it feels like there is no other time to announce, “…I’m pregnant.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Pregnant?”

The second he repeats the word, the smile follows, and you’re crushed. You don’t know how to express your fear about what the doctor said, about the order you’ve been given, and you just want to memorize that beautiful look on his face as he bends down to kiss you.

The kiss is hot cocoa sweet, and you enjoy the news for a second – relieved he seems to want this as much as you do. Roman stops, stroking your hair and inquiring, “How are you feeling? Are you sick? Should I run to the store for stuff? Who else knows?”

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” You lie, wanting to calm him just a little as he begins to become the worrisome baby daddy. Soon you won’t be able to do anything without him standing beside you, asking to help and telling you to sit down.

Roman narrows his eyes, as though he remembered something, “You didn’t eat much tonight? Were you getting sick downstairs?”

“No, just…” You scoot back, realizing you won’t be able to keep things from him for long. Moving to what is normally his side of the bed, you pat the now empty space in front of you, “Lay with me.”

He does as requested, facing you and allowing his hand to begin a massage of your lower back; his touch is a gift from God, amazing you with how well he knows your body. Roman waits for you to slightly relax before asking, “What aren’t you telling me?”

Someone or something else had cursed him with the knowledge of you, reading you better than he read text messages. You remove the lump in your throat with a large gulp of air and spit, “I was sick so I went to the doctor yesterday, and that’s when I found out.” Attempting to return his comforting gesture, you press your body against his and lift your hand to comb through the length of his locks, slow and repeatedly, “He said he was a little concerned and wanted me to rest this week before I went for my first doctor’s visit next week.”

“Why? What was the concern?”

“Something about levels.” You shut your eyes upon seeing the next question in his eyes, elaborating, “It’s all in the paper work. But, since yesterday, I’ve been taking it easy. I wasn’t even going to tell you yet because I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Baby girl,” His call is soft, inflated with compassion, and causes you to find his dark stare once more, “You’re okay. The baby is okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You know that, right?”

The tears race out of your eyes, spilling over your cheeks before you can come up with a lie or witty response, and you give a slow nod.

“It could be nothing. Maybe you are further along than they know. Maybe you’ve been stressing about getting pregnant so long that your body is just—promising you this is real.” Roman snakes his hand from the small of your back to your lower abdomen, “This is everything we wanted. There’s no way we’re gonna lose it. Just trust that you won’t always be disappointed, not anymore…and not as my wife.”

You can’t help but snicker, wiping your own tears as his caress feels like it is ridding your stomach of all sickness; unable to offer him half the reassurance he has given you, you nuzzle his neck and sigh in relief when his arms create a barrier around you. Nothing can hurt you or your baby there; that much you believe.

—————————

The feel of his lips upon your shoulder, his arms still tight around you, is the perfect way to start your next morning; you tilt your head and smile against his bicep.

“Good morning, beautiful, you feeling okay?”

You have to get used to him asking this question again. It comes from the purest part of your beast’s heart, determined to keep your world protected. You take your time to turn in his arms, bringing your back to his chest and making sure you’re curled even more in his embrace, “I’m fine, babe.”

Roman crosses an arm over your chest, his hand squeezing your shoulder, as the opposite hands begins to rub your tummy, “Good, because I need you to eat today.”

“And so it begins!” You chuckle, tilting your head back and rolling your eyes, “Roman, I promise to rest, eat, and let you know about all uncomfortable things happening in my pregnant body. No secrets, just the most painful and disgusting truths.”

He smirks, kissing your temple, “All right, that’s what I needed to know…because I’d like to take you and (Y/B/N) to breakfast. You up to it?”

“Sounds good to me.” You moan, pushing into back into him a little, “…after we stay in bed just a little while longer.”

—————————

_I told him everything._

You reassure your best friend through text message, waiting for Roman and your son to return from the restroom. The beach front restaurant has helped to complete your perfect morning, the huge weight on your shoulders lifted since you told Roman the truth – maybe you were starting to realize it was better to just be upfront with him.

You shut your eyes, allowing the wind brushing off the waves to sweep through your curled tresses as the sun continues to love upon your skin.

“There’s mama.” Roman’s voice breaks your meditation, and you look to your boys with a wide smile; seeing this, he breathes deeply and adds, “Beautiful mama.”

You shrug your shoulder as he returns your son to his seat; his kiss on your head makes the sweet gesture complete before he sits across from you. You immediately put your hand to his, intertwining your fingers, “This is nice.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Roman caresses your skin with his thumb, the orders made, “Because I’m using it to start another discussion. One we need to have.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” You sip on water, chewing on some ice to alleviate nerves.

“Well, it can be a great conversation…if you’re open to it.” His words cause you to frown, until he awards you a half grin, “I was just wondering how soon you wanted to get married.”

You nearly choke on the last piece of ice, causing his eyes to widen, until you hold up your hands in a ‘wait a minute’ gesture. Drinking another large gulp of water, you clear your throat, “How about some time before the baby is born but after my first doctor’s appointment?”

“Perfect.”

Roman gives no further detail than that, releasing your hand just as the food is placed before you. Your sarcasm was apparently lost on him, and the weight that had dissolved feels like it is slowly piling on your shoulders again.


	8. Chapter 8

Your doctor’s appointment was tomorrow; as you expected, Roman negotiated his way to be home for it. He was not going to let you learn anything else about the baby without him.

God, life was beautiful and simple when he was around. Especially moments like this where he held your son against him with one hand, the boy settling almost immediately, while you lied on the couch, his opposite hand playing soothing with your hair as your head rested in his lap. Whatever was on television didn’t matter much; it only matter that your family was together – safe.

You were also comfortable, gray shorts and a matching shirt that was branded with his logo. Roman donned sweatpants and nothing else, complaining that the temperature in the house was already getting weird due to your pregnancy. For this reason, you also left your baby boy in only a pair of pajama shorts. Your eyes start to feel heavy, so secure and warm that you’re sure you could sleep for months.

“(Y/N)?” Roman calls quiet, causing you to lift your head, and gestures towards your son, “I’m going to get him tucked in.”

You nod, sitting up and run your hands through your hair as he stands up with your boy. When he pauses to stare at you, you laugh, “What?”

“You just—don’t do that. You’re getting me thinking about things I shouldn’t. Not until we’ve seen the doctor. Stop.”

You’re flabbergasted, “Stop what?”

He is already out of the room, heading to your son’s room, “Being sexy! You tryin’ to kill me.”

You stretch out on the couch, exposing your tummy and shut your eyes. Once Roman had assured you everything would be okay, your exhaustion has fully consumed you. You welcome the sensation, needing to know the stress is gone.

His lips come in contact with your tummy just as you are so sure that sleep has overtaken you; you smile, reaching down to stroke his thick hair as he rests his head gently atop your lower abdomen. When you finally blink your sleepy eyes open, elevating your head by curving your free arm underneath, you stare down at him, “It can’t hear you yet, you know?”

“No, but you can.” Roman sits up on his knees, leaning slightly over you and staring down into your eyes, “This baby will be healthy, (Y/N). I know it. The doctor’s going to tell you the same thing tomorrow.”

You fight tears, taking one of his hands and kissing his palm before placing it at your heart, “You promise?”

“I swear it. With everything I am.”

—————————

You flip through six pamphlets, trying not to listen in on Roman’s conversation as he talks to Dean – who is watching your son, “No, he can’t eat that! What the hell? No, _no_ , just stick to the list I gave you, man. I’m not going to be that long. Don’t make me—yes, you are his uncle. Very capable…got it. Don’t make me kill you.”

It is impossible to wait for the doctor who has already examined you. He claimed he needed to check his results against the ones taken a week or so ago, then he would discuss everything with you. You sat in his office of happy baby expressions and tons of ‘your baby at…’ handouts. You pace until Roman gets off the phone, calling out to you, “(Y/N).”

You comply when he signals for you to sit next to him, “What’s taking so long?”

“Two things. One, it’s only been about ten minutes. Two, I’m pretty sure they can charge as much as they want when the appointments last longer.”

“Roman, it’s not a mechanic. They can’t charge you for labor when that’s the woman’s job.” You share his laugh, scooting your chair closer to his and hugging his arm, “I just need to know the baby’s okay. That—you won’t have to calm me down every night because I don’t know.”

“I know…” Roman whispers against your hair before kissing the same spot, “Any minute now.”

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” You feel Roman tense at the call, rolling your eyes. _We’re not married yet!_ You straighten in your seat, “Is everything okay, doctor?”

“Yes, everything looks good.” The doctor sits behind his desk, comparing all the results, “I estimate you are about four weeks along.”

You look over at Roman, blushing as you both recognize that is around the time you got engaged. Once you’ve shook it off, you take a deep breath, “But the doctor was worried about my elevated HCG levels. What does that mean?”

“Nothing of concern yet, it could mean anything. Some women run slightly elevated the entire time, and the most important thing is just to make sure you go easy with your stress levels. Do anything you can possibly do to relax and give in a little to anything your body wants to eat. Women usually have some weird cravings, but it’s in response to something their baby may need.” He glances at your history, smiling up at you, “I might be telling you a lot of what you know, huh? You have a small son?”

“Yes, but—that pregnancy went off perfectly. This time…we were trying…I got pregnant when I felt like I stopped trying…then the ER doctor talked like I should be worried about losing the baby.” Roman’s bicep tenses within your hold; he had already requested you take him to the hospital and point the guy out so they could have a man to man talk. You refused. Lightly squeezing his muscle, you put pressure on the doctor, “Is this a high risk pregnancy? Am I supposed to do bed rest or anything? Because we want this child, and I will do anything to—”

“Ms. (Y/L/N), I can assure you that you are fine. However, if you worry like this, you may bring on undue stress. I’m asking you to trust your doctor,” Holding a hand to his chest, his smiles beams calm, “if I have any concerns arise, I will let you and your child’s father—”

“Her fiancé and the father.” Roman corrects him unnecessarily, getting the doctor’s attention, “you’re saying (Y/N) and the baby are fine right now. Healthy, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Should she avoid any—physical activity?”

You could die of embarrassment; sure no one has missed his meaning, and sink a little into your seat, “Roman…”

The doctor chuckles, shaking his head, “As long as she’s not training for the Olympics? She should be fine.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You’re falling asleep on me.”

“What do you expect?” You lie completely relaxed, your muscles dead weight after your lovemaking; your body was face to face with his, one of his arms holding you tight against him as the opposite hand stroked the length of your hair – his fingertips brushing your spine, “My babies are okay, my fiancé is amazing, and I couldn’t move a muscle if I wanted to.”

“Not even thinking about tomorrow?”

Oh, yeah, that. Roman had arranged for a small ceremony tomorrow, used your best friend to arrange the entire affair. You blink your eyes open, smiling faintly, “I’ll be happy to be your wife, Roman. I don’t care how it gets done. I just care that you know that our family is forever.”

He grins, kissing you tenderly and pressing his forehead to yours, “Thank you for everything you’ve given me. Thank you for my family.”

“I’m in love with you. Nothing in the world could take me away.” You slide your hand up his arm and begin to trace his tribal tattoo with your fingernail.

“Maybe a ring on your finger will make me feel better too.”

“Is that, right? What do you have to be nervous about? You’re the one that gets to be part of a million female fantasies.”

“Are we really going down this road, again?”

“Mm-hmm.” You push him a little to slither on top of him, crossing your arms over his broad chest and resting your chin on them, “Tell me again how no one woman could possibly want you when you flash that beautiful smile or share that tongue that should be exclusive to me.”

Roman playfully sticks his tongue out at you, only to have you lightly bite it. Before you know it, his fingers tangle in your hair again as both of you are alert and intoxicated once more.

—————————

The ceremony is beautiful, but all you remember is staring into his eyes as he guided you through every step. Now, as you dance with Roman – one arm holding your sleepy son and the other tight around you, you rest your head against his shoulder.

While family and friends surround you, everything feels perfectly in place. It feels like a dream. You wonder if there is any way you could possibly be happier.

You reach up to smooth your son’s hair, making him fall into a deep sleep as his head falls to Roman’s opposite shoulder, “We gotta get him to bed.”

“Yeah,” Roman makes a subtle signal with his head, releasing you with a kiss, “I’m going to get him settled into our suite, all right?”

“Okay.” You turn to find Dean approaching, “Oh, are you taking over?”

“Guess so.”

“Watch your hands, Uncle Dean.” Roman warns, elbowing him lightly and exiting the reception.

Dean carefully places his hands on your hips, swaying with you and smirking, “I feel like this is where I say I told you so.”

“Thanks so much.” You chuckle, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, “…and I know.”

“Good. Just making sure.” That smug ass grin, dimples emphasizing his confidence.

You continue to move with him, glancing around the room at everyone’s shared happiness. It was the blessing of everyone wishing you and Roman luck, wanting nothing but ‘ever after’ for you. This moves you so much, you feel the urge to clamp your hands on Dean’s shoulders a little tighter. However, it slowly occurs to you that you are holding him for an entirely different reason. The room is starting to spin out of control, and you feel the strength fading from your limbs – like you’ve been left helpless in your own body.

Your eyes meet Roman’s as he reenters the room, the smile fading from his lips as he notes the panic in your eyes; you drop in Dean’s arms and hear Roman calling your name as he rushes to you – the room goes black.

—————————

You can’t look at your new husband, even as he begs you to. All you can think about is that you’ve barely made it to your tenth week, and you are weak. You are too weak to keep this baby and too weak to be his wife; you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your entire life.

“(Y/N)…we don’t know anything. The doctor is going to be back any minute and…”

His reassurance does little for you as you imagine the very worst; who was to say you hadn’t lost the baby you wanted already? Who was to say you’d ever give Roman the life he deserved? You focus your eyes on your heart monitor while Roman sits on the opposite side of you; it’s not fair to him. But you are too damn hurt and selfish in that moment to care.

Roman takes your hand which is closest to him and clasps it between his, “(Y/N), please look at me. Please don’t shut me out.”

“I—I can’t.”

“Why? I’m here. I’m with you. You are not alone.”

“Because I can’t…” You roll your head to the other side, lip quivering, “I can’t let you down again.” His expression immediately falls as he stands to his feet, staring down at you, wounded, “If this—”

“Hear me, right now.” Roman leans down to you, eye to eye with more certainty than you’ve ever seen, “I made you a promise. I meant it. You,” His hands rests against your tummy, “both are going to be okay.”

You want to question him, but you are prevented as the curtain is pulled back; a doctor appears with a small smile towards both of you, “Mrs. Reigns, are you feeling a little better?”

“Not really, I have no clue what’s going on.” You try to sit up only for the doctor and Roman to signal you to sit back, “What is happening with my baby?”

Roman squeezes your shoulder with reassurance, stepping in, “Has her blood pressure come down, doctor?”

“Yes, and I have a feeling your wedding – the excitement – may have made her body work a little over time.” The doctor nods as a nurse appears with equipment, “We’re just going to do an ultrasound, real quick, and make sure everything is fine with your child.”

“I was supposed to have the ultrasound on Wednesday.” You try to adjust only to have them both signal you to remain calm, “Well, could I have prevented this? Should I have gotten this done sooner?”

The doctor shakes his head, pulling up a stool and signaling Roman he can help, “It is normal to have the first ultrasound at ten weeks; your baby is just anxious to make an appearance.” Roman has carefully lifted your hospital gown and situated your blanket beneath your bloated belly, “We’re just going to make sure that we have no surprises.”

You and Roman share a smile as the doctor readies your stomach then begins; you begin to feel relief, again that temporary relief that your baby is okay _for_ **now**.

“Oh.” The doctor rips the silence with a single sound; you and Roman’s stare shifts to the doctor waiting for an explanation, only to find him staring closer at the screen, “Well…”

“What?” Roman speaks for you, “What is it?”

“Um…” The doctor lets a nervous grin emerge, bouncing his eyes between the two of you, “It’s twins.”


	10. Chapter 10

Roman continues to play with your son as the two of them eat dinner; your husband relieved he has returned home to find you worrying less and relaxing more.

You can’t help it; you’re exhausted – far more exhausted than you were with the first pregnancy. It’s not surprising as the daunting task of carrying and having twins is consistently gnawing at the back of your brain. You pat Roman’s hand, signaling him that you’re going to get up, only to have him drop his fork immediately, dark eyes set upon you, “What are you doing?”

“Dishes. The kitchen’s a mess.”

“No, you sit. I got it.” Roman does this, makes commands that you are just supposed to follow without protest; he can tell your irritated but only laughs, “You didn’t listen to me about cooking. You can at least let your man do the damn dishes.”

Rolling your eyes, you release a deep breath and lean back in your chair, “Fine. I will just sit here.” You rub your belly, blinking your heavy eyes and letting out a low moan, “I’m not arguing at this point.”

Roman checks your son before returning his eyes to you, reaching a large hand over to your stomach, “How they doing in there?”

“God, that doesn’t sound a little weird to you?” You chuckle, slapping his hand away and self-consciously pulling your shirt out to hide the twelve week protruding bump, “I asked you for one, not duplicates.”

“Sorry, baby girl,” Roman gathers plates, kissing the top of your head, “I can’t control what my troops do once they get on the battlefield.”

“Could we not call my womb a battlefield? That’d be great.” You narrow your eyes playfully at him while he put everything in the sink; you stand to your feet, smiling brightly at your boy, “Let’s get you clean, papa.”

“Wait. Wait.” Roman stops his work in the kitchen, running around to stop you once again, “I’ll get him cleaned up. You go sit.”

“Babe, I appreciate all the fussing, but I gotta get used to this. You aren’t going to be here all the time.” You try not shrink a little out of his touch, his hands on your stomach and hips, “I need to be doing everything normal, as though I’m—”

“Two things.” He pulls you to him, like that’s not going to make you feel weird – seeing as your stomach puts a bit of distance between you, “One, I’m here. When I’m here, I am allowed to do everything while you kick back. Two…I wanted to talk to you about the always being alone thing.”

“Wha—why?” You can see it in his expression, immediately growing somewhat irritated, and park your son on your hip, despite Roman’s stern stare, “No, you will not have your family in here checking on me like I’m some kind of invalid.”

“You heard what the doctor said,” Roman stands in your way, making it clear he won’t budge, “stress is supposed to be at a zero. You have to take better care of yourself than ever before, and you need to get in the habit now. That way you don’t make it harder on yourself during the last trimester.”

You hand over your son, not looking Roman in the eye – even as he gives your cheek a kiss and takes your son away to be cleaned. It was a double edged sword to have a man so willing to care for you, especially for someone as independent as you are. Ignoring the urge to go into the kitchen, you go upstairs to grab a pair of comfy shorts and try three baggy shirts until you find one you’re comfortable in. The bump wasn’t huge, though you imagine it is and will be by the nine months is over – if you can avoid premature labor as Roman’s suggested. But you don’t remember being this big, this early, with (Y/B/N) which was to be expected. Still, you were quickly losing your sexy in spite of your man’s consistent urge to have his hands on you.

You pull your hair up into loose, messy ponytail and go back downstairs to sit in front of the television like a good little wifey. By this time, Roman comes back and returns your son to you. You smile, stretching your feet out as Roman props another pillow behind you, and accept your son into your open arms. Your son immediately curls up against you and begins to settle, your hand stroking his hair as you slightly sway with your eyes on the television. While you do so, Roman does as he promised and cleans the mess in the kitchen as well as others he finds around the house.

“He’s out.” Roman whispers, gathering your son again, and smiling down at you, “Nice work, Mama.”

“Thanks, I try.” You extend your limbs further, enjoy the little releases of tension, and do not fight him as he goes to put your son to bed. One commercial later, you hightail it to the kitchen and grab a small container of vanilla ice cream; you grab chocolate syrup, sure you’re just going to put a few swirls on top, but you shrug as you use the doctor’s orders to your advantage; you’re just listening to your babies. Grabbing the bottle, you head back to the living room with a spoon hanging out of your mouth and the ice cream in the other hand. When Roman finally returns to the living room, you curl your legs under yourself, announcing, “The doctor said to listen to cravings. This has been one of them.”

“Yeah?” He falls into a seat beside you, his legs half hanging off the couch as he eyes the container, “Give me some.” 

“You’d really take from your babies?” You tease, swirling some of the ice cream around your tongue when he pouts; shaking your head, you get a spoonful and slip into your husband’s awaiting mouth, “Selfish.”

“Mmm, that’s good.”

You proclaim, taking another big spoonful into your mouth as he lays his head on your knee, “Mm-hmm…the rest is for us.”

“Fine, don’t share.” Roman kisses your knee, his hand beginning to move up and down your leg, “I got a craving for something else anyway.”

While part of your body responds immediately to his heated tone and wandering hand, the larger part of you (much larger part) is extremely self-conscious at the thought of it. You clear your throat, uncurling your legs and putting the bottle as well as the ice cream with spoon on the table, “I’m exhausted. Would you hate me if we just went to bed?”

“Nope, come on.” Roman shuts things down in the living room, leaving you slightly suspicious, until he grabs all the items you set down; trying to kill your suspicions, he insists, “Just in case you have a midnight craving.”

“Right, because who doesn’t want ice cream soup.” You roll your eyes, leading the way to your bedroom after getting one last look at your son’s nursery. Roman sets the things on your bedside table, watching you closely as you peel the covers down and climb into bed.

Once you lay on your side, facing him, he crawls into bed with you and scoots close so you can feel his warm breath. When he places a hand against your rib cage, his thumb brushing just beneath your breast, you move a little away and try to get cozier with your pillow.

A frown immediately clouds his features as he pauses his touch, “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Every time I touch you, you act like it disgusts you.” Roman takes the same hand that had been touching you and runs it into his wild hair, “I’m trying not to be offended, but—it’s hard not to notice when my wife doesn’t want me touching her.”

“It’s not you…it’s—” You shut your eyes tight, sighing heavily, “I just—I get so tired.”

“Really? So tired that you can’t stand the idea of me helping you to relax?”

“Roman, stop.”

“No, look at me,” He waits for your eyes to flutter open and meet his, whispering desperately, “Please, just be honest with me.”

“This! This is what’s going on with me, babe!” You roll onto your back and gesture towards your stomach, “I’m not feeling super desirable right now! There, total honesty.”

You expect him to tell you that you’re crazy; you are never more beautiful than when you’re pregnant and all that other crap. Instead, you hear him release a huff and move, ordering you, “Sit up.”

“Roman…”

“Just, do as I ask, all right?”

You do, trying to avoid his eyes as he moves; you allow him to easily part your legs so he can sit on his knees between them. Continuing to submit, you watch as he reaches over for the ice cream carton. He pops a spoonful into your mouth, leaving you confused until his tongue is swirling with yours, giving you the wonderful taste of vanilla and Roman. The flavor is enough to leave you in a daze, and you simply give in when he removes your shirt – just wanting another spoonful. Obliging your silent request, Roman reveals a cocky grin at your grabby hands in his hair upon the second vanilla kiss.

You somewhat bite your lip, attempting to hide it by bringing the back of your hand to your mouth, until he yanks on your shorts so hard that you slide down on the bed, bursting into laughter. The message he is giving you is clear, you are beautiful and – more importantly – he’s desperate to have you.

Roman grabs the chocolate syrup, dripping some along your collarbone and licking it off in slow, purposeful strokes with his tongue. When he is sure you will no longer deny him, he squirts the chocolate liberally along your inner thighs; before he has fun removing it all, he puts a dab on his tongue and leans down for you to taste him again.

Once you are done sucking the tip of his tongue, you moan in disappointment as he pulls away, “No, I’m awake now. Come back.”

“I got work to do.” Roman circles the chocolate along one of your thighs, bringing his thumb to your mouth and allowing you to suck on that, “My wife needs to know how beautiful she is…” Before you can protest any further, he begins to trail kisses down your body, thinking aloud, “I want to see how much sweeter you taste covered in chocolate.”


End file.
